


How Fast a Rose Wilts - My Breath, My Love, My Smoke

by wiltcd_rose



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Abusive Parents, Bottom Brendon Urie, Child Abuse, Domestic Ryden, Fucked Up, Gay, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Innocence, Loss of Innocence, M/M, No Spoilers, Pre-Relationship, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ryden Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, Top Ryan Ross, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24930652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiltcd_rose/pseuds/wiltcd_rose
Summary: This is a story about two boys from two different worlds.Brendon was born into a life of lies. Ryan was born into a world that was filled with lies, yet he knew the truth.They're mere children.And love is a mere lie.But I don't think either care.
Relationships: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. - Prolouge -

**Author's Note:**

> -tw-  
> a few things will be brought up in this book.  
> stockholm syndrome, rape, cnc, verbal and physical abuse, sex, drugs, alcohol, self harm, suicide, eating disorders, addiction.  
> this is not meant to glorify anything, it's meant to bring light to how the world actually works.  
> you have been warned and please proceed with caution.

_**Prolouge** _

Between life and death, sin and sinner, lover and love, you have choices. You make 1,000,000 choices a day, small or large, and each choice creates another timeline for you. But what if all those small choices were ripped from you? What would _you_ do then?

We live in a world where we choose wants and the government makes us believe our needs. Someone told me that a long time ago.

Someone…

Lifetimes ago, I was someone else. I believed something else. I believed in someone’s smile and the way his eyes lit up when he spoke up.

I don’t anymore. I wish I could forget the way his lips feel or the way he breathes after a show. I wish I didn’t know anymore.

I spend most days in my room when I’m not out and about on tour, or drinking. It’s become a nasty habit that wasn't originally mine. Got it from that cocksucker years ago and now I can’t stop.

Yet, it isn’t the worst. It makes days fly by and helps me sleep through the nights. _He would be better though_ …

God, he’s all I think about. When I’m driving, when I’m falling asleep, when I breathe. I get lost so often in my own head that…

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Who the hell could be here? Spencer is god knows where.

I walk to the door and brush my hair from my eyes. The clock on my wall says it’s 1:27 in the afternoon. Maybe it’s the mail?

I start with just cracking the door open, looking down. The sun is bright, brighter than anything I’ve seen in months.

Then comes a hand on the door. And suddenly,

I’m staring at him. I’m angry, I’m sad, I’m in love, I’m furious, I want to cry.

We stare at each other for a moment or two before he speaks.

“You gonna let me in or?” There’s a lump in my throat. I want to hit him. But I don’t move, don’t give off any emotion.

“Nope.”


	2. Things that Once Were

_Part i - My Breath_

As kids, we all heard the term “i’ll tell you when you’re older”, right? Your parents would tell you that to protect you from the world; preserve your innocence. Well what happens when that is taken to an extreme? 

Brendon Urie, at the ripe age of 17 years old, was as sheltered as one can get. In all his 17 years, Brendon had never left his property. He never watched tv or read any books, hell, he didn’t even know what year it was. 

But Brendon didn’t mind all too much. He didn’t know of anything other than his secluded life that his parents created for him. Which made his world completely reasonable and normal. So much so that he didn’t question when all three of his siblings were gone within one night. But more on that later… 

Moral of the story, Brendon was happy. He thought everything was completely normal and that everything that happened was okay. 

\--------------------------

In a very dimly lit room, Brendon stood before his chair alongside his mother to his left. His head was held low as he looked down at the plate. They were experiencing a shortage in their garden food due to a slight drought, at least that’s what his mother had said. Brendon believed it, and had seen it -- he literally gardened it! Yet his meager portion was nothing in comparison to his mother and father’s hearty portions. His stomach growled and pleaded for more than what was given.

Brendon’s mother smacks his arm as a warning to be quiet. As if he could control his stomach growls. 

“Sorry, mother,” he mumbled softly as he kept his head lowered. 

Then the father came to the table, his broad appearance was nothing in comparison to his son’s scrawny figure. 

“Sit,” he barked. Brendon and Grace did just that. 

Silence fell among the three remaining Urie’s as they ate. Brendon took in slow and small bites just to savor the meal. The only sound that filled the air was the sound of forks to the plate. 

That’s just how it was every meal.

_Control._ That’s what it was. 

Brendon took a sip of his water, having some go down the wrong way, which induced a slight coughing fit. 

That was the first fault of the night. 

Boyd got unusually frustrated with Brendon’s sudden coughing, for he had had a stressful few months. With 4 out of his 5 kids (the smarter ones in his opinion) recently running away, he was dangerously close to having his master-plan unveiled. It was too much for the monster to take. 

“Can you not respect my request for silence?” His voice boomed, outweighing the sound of Brendon’s soft coughs.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. So sor-” he stopped to cough a few more times, which only enraged his father further. 

“Room. Now.” Boyd ordered and Brendon 

Brendon got up without saying another word, hurrying to his room before the wrath of his father became too much. He got into an old set of clothes that once belonged to his older brothers. 

The larger clothes fell from his small frame. He looked emaciated in comparison to the clothes he pulled over his body. The thin, worn fabric was a reminder of the things that once were.

How he once wasn’t so lonely.

How he once had three others to lean on.

But the past is history. And part of moving on is that empty mystery filled with dread and misery. 

The male laid in his bed, staring up into the ceiling. His room was pitch black, for the windows had been sealed shut. His parents said it was to ensure he was able to sleep at night, but that didn’t explain why they boarded up the windows once his siblings left.

Brendon stared for quite some time, occasionally drifting into a light, uneasy sleep. He was thinking. Letting every thought run rampant, for he had never been taught how to get rid of them. 

“Where’s the kid?” An unfamiliar voice could be heard from downstairs. Brendon was so sure that he was asleep.

So sure he didn’t hear his mother’s screams. His father’s yelling. The footsteps. 

And then suddenly nothing. Darkness.

Then a bit of light crept into the room and an unfamiliar male came into view. Brendon shot up, clearly startled. 

The screaming and yelling could still be heard.

So it wasn’t a dream after all.

A man crouched before Brendon, a soft expression on his face. He seemed much calmer than the men that could be heard downstairs.

“I know you’re scared, kid,” The man started. “But I’m here to help. I’m George.” 

Brendon looked him up and down, not knowing how to react. He had never seen another person outside the 5 others that lived with him. It was overwhelming to him, yet he still managed to stay calm. Scanning over the nametag on George’s left side, Brendon tried to make sense of the situation.

“Brendon. And I’m sorry, Mr. Ross, but I don’t need help. My parents are-”

“Being arrested. I’m sorry to say that, son. But you and I both know, your parents weren’t that great.”

“But how, sir? They never did me wrong. They did everything they did for me. If I messed up, they punished me for my wrongdoings. They taught me everything, like writing and multiplication! Isn’t that what every parent does?” Brendon responded matter-of-factly.

George’s face scrunched up as he listened to the young boy. 

“Paul, I’m going to need to get CPS at the station in 30.”

Many things became of that night. 

But the things that once were, were no longer. And the things to be were yet to surpass the seed rooted in Brendon. No, they wouldn’t. Not for a long while. 


	3. Life is Meant to Leave Marks

The night was not a fun one for Brendon. He sat in an interrogation room, feeling as though he was the one being held as prisoner instead of his parents. 

Brendon didn’t even know why they were there in the first place! Wasn’t this how all kids were raised? He didn’t understand what was happening and no one explained it to him. It was frustrating to say the least. 

He sat in the chair, tapping his fingers on the brown desk that sat before him. Two men and a woman then walked into the room. The woman sat next to Brendon with a gentle smile and the two men sat on the other side of the desk. 

“Hi, Brendon. I’m Vicky, your lawyer. Do you know what that is?” She said in a warm voice. She was purposely trying to make sure he didn’t get scared or run. 

Brendon shook his head and looked up at her, his eyes wide. In any other circumstance, Vicky would probably find it adorable (he looked like a puppy for christ's sake!). But there was a glint of fear in his eyes. 

“Well, uh, in simple terms…” She paused to find a way to simplify it for Brendon. 

“I’m here to make sure you’re protected from your parents and those defending them,” she said in a soft voice, placing a hand on his shoulder and running it down softly. 

Brendon shrugged off her hand, “But why? They’ve done nothing wrong!” 

The problem with that phrase was that Brendon actually believed it. 

Vicky sighed and shook her head, pressing the cap of her pen to her lips. A little lipstick rubbed off onto the pen as she tried to think. How the hell are you supposed to tear someone’s world apart? 

“Brendon, honey, you can’t possibly believe that,” a sigh escaped her lips, “Before we get into anything else, this is Mikey. He’s a counselor.” She pointed to the one on the right side. 

“And this is Zack. He’s with child protective services. Now, we know you turn 18 in April, right?” 

Brendon cocked his head. “What’s an April?” 

A collective sigh came from the room as Mikey shuffled to be more visible to Brendon. 

“Hi, Brendon. I’m Mikey. I’ll be working with you until you turn 18. Then you decide whether or not to continue seeing me. So, tell me, why are you so confused?” His voice was soft and sickening to Brendon.

“Why am I even here?” He sighed, hearing his stomach growl loudly. 

Mikey put both his hands on the table. 

“Well, your brother’s and sister reported your mother and father after running away. We had to create a case to get a search warrant-- something that gave us permission to come inside your house. They said you were still there. Now, do you want anything to eat or drink?”

“But why?” Brendon asked, becoming impatient with everyone in the room.

“Because they’re abusive, Brendon. They didn’t feed you the proper amount your entire life, fed you lies, and didn’t even register your birth! Now, you didn’t answer Mikey. Do you want something to eat or drink?” Zack chimed in. Brendon’s head was spinning. If this was the back and forth going on now, The night was going to be long.

Brendon looked Zack up and down for just a moment. What even was abuse? And if it was what his parents showed to him…

“No, thank you. I ate earlier,” Brendon shifted uncomfortably as he looked up at Mikey.

Calm. That’s all he picked up off of Mikey.

Mikey pursed his lips for just a moment, “You won’t be a bother to us at all. You need to eat. And you need to eat more than what your parents fed you. You’re way too skinny.”

“Life is meant to leave marks. I’m just full of more marks than you, I guess. I’m not hungry.”

\---------------------

It was nearly 7 am when Brendon was finally released from questioning. He was exhausted. Purely exhausted. Yet he didn’t dare shut his eyes. The monsters could creep out if he did. 

Apparently, Mr. Ross had many tricks up his sleeve. Not only was he an officer, he was a registered foster parent (“In case of situations where a kiddo needs a place to stay!”), both of which had to be explained to a very tired Brendon. 

His small, secluded walls were beginning to fall. They were being replaced with vast galaxies of knowledge yet to be discovered. A bit scary if you ask me. 

But there Brendon was, in the backseat of Mr. Ross’s car. It was Brendon’s second time ever being in a car. Isn’t it incredible how a handle can simply roll up or down a window? Or how a qtip-like piece of plastic can prevent his entire door from being opened. And that was just the basics of a car!

After several attempts to help Brendon with his seatbelt, he finally got in himself, offering Brendon a butterscotch candy from the glovebox.

“I have a son around your age. He makes me buy these. They’re kinda addicting. Try one,” George smiled gently. 

Brendon took one of the candies that resided in George’s palm, unraveling the crinkly yellow material. He then put the candy in his mouth, his mouth quickly salivating. 

Brendon’s face cringed slightly as he tasted it. The candy was too sweet in his opinion. Way too sweet. The buttery taste washed over him and he gagged slightly. Not wanting to waste any food, Brendon quickly chewed the candy and swallowed.

“You didn’t have to do that, son,” George chuckled slightly before taking them to his home.

“But I didn’t want to waste it,” Brendon reasoned. 

The rest of the short drive was a quiet one. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, for both hadn’t slept all night. 

Upon arrival, Brendon looked the house up and down; a tremor ran through his body. 

The house was nice. It looked nice. But Brendon did not feel welcomed. 

Carrying absolutely nothing, Brendon followed George into the house. A boy sat on the couch, looking into a computer screen. The only reason Brendon knew what it was, was because of Mikey. 

The boy looked up at his father and the stranger trespassing into his home. He looked like he should have been shorter and could be deemed as skinny as Brendon, yet he wasn’t. He had a bitchy look residing on his face. 

Brendon felt intimidated. Like he was an outsider looking in, which in a way, he was. 

“George! Did you stay up all night?” Mr. Ross asked, causing Brendon to cock his head. 

The boy looked annoyed. “I told you, I go by Ryan. Who’s the kid?” He stood up, causing Brendon to realize how tall he really was.

George looked Ryan up and down with a disapproving eye roll, “This is Brendon. He’s only a few months younger than you. He’s gonna stay with us for a while. Now, get me a beer and show him to your room.”

Ryan groaned to himself and shoved past Brendon, a loud sigh escaping his lips. 

"God, why are you like this?"


	4. Strobe Lights

Ryan was not in a good mood that morning. Not when he gave his father a beer. Not when he dragged Brendon up to his room. 

As he shut the door, he threw his laptop onto his bed before groaning to Brendon.

“This better fucking be good. I was this close to getting laid!” Ryan growled to Brendon, who was standing before the door, hands behind his back. 

Brendon held his hands up out of slight fear, and a slight panicked haze. He was tired and not ready to be yelled at. But he didn’t understand what Ryan even meant. So he cocked his head innocently. 

Those were the biggest brown eyes Ryan had ever seen, and if he wasn’t so pissed, he might’ve found Brendon a bit cute. Might’ve. 

“Stop doing that.” Ryan snapped at Brendon, who looked extremely tired and just not in the mood.

But he didn’t say a thing or reciprocate the anger. 

No, instead he stopped the headcock and looked up at Ryan. He yawned softly and bit his lower lip.

“What do you mean by ‘get laid’?” Brendon asked with a soft yawn following his question. 

Ryan scoffed and looked the raven haired boy up and down before realizing he was serious.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He asked.

“Sorry…” Brendon pressed his teeth into his soft bottom lip.

Ryan felt a wave of regret wash over him, yet he said nothing. His posture lightened up as he went out into the hall. Grabbing a few blankets, Ryan came back. He threw the blankets onto Brendon and sighed when he watched the shorter male flinch. 

“Here. Sleep.” He muttered as he tugged a handle, revealing the pull-out mattress. 

“I’m gonna talk to my girlfriend. You sleep. Don’t bug me, got it?” Ryan said in a tone you’d hear from an older sibling who had been forced to watch their younger sibling. 

Brendon nodded quickly, laying the blankets down. He was still in an old, tattered t-shirt that belonged to his older brother. Along with plaid red and black pants that revealed his ankles. But he asked for nothing as he laid down onto the bed, snuggling into the blankets that were around him.

Before Ryan could offer Brendon a pillow, he was passed out due to pure exhaustion. In any other circumstance, Brendon probably wouldn’t be able to sleep. The situation was too new and overwhelming. Like strobe lights almost. Too much.

\----------------------

Brendon didn’t wake until three that afternoon, and he was completely alone. At first, he thought he had woken up from a fever dream. The first indicator he wasn’t within the walls of his own home was the abundance of light. 

The sun crept through the room, hitting the boy’s eyes in a different way than his room. Then the scent of the blankets he was wrapped in. They smelled fresh and gave him a headache. 

And suddenly, reality hit him. As if his mind was foggy with strobe lights flashing and they were turned off. He sat up, looking left and right. No one. He wondered if everything was a dream. 

The door was open, calling out for Brendon to go and explore. So, he got up and rubbed his eyes, taking a left. A warm corridor sat before him, beckoning him forward. Then the carpeted stairs. 

One step after the other, he quietly went down. 

Ryan wouldn’t have heard him.

That was until he slid down the last three of the stairs.

Ryan jumped out of being startled before he started to laugh. 

“There’s a step there…” he mused before getting up and offering Brendon a hand. 

Brendon grasped his hand, letting Ryan hoisten him up. Then Ryan’s nose crinkles slightly, as if he smelled something.

“Do you even know how to shower?”

“We-well I--”

“Like, God, you smell. Please go shower.” 

Brendon just nodded. Compliance. Something was wrong. Everyone he had ever done that through got so offended. 

“Kid, look at me,” Ryan placed a hand on Brendon’s shoulder, feeling bone. And yes, when your hand rests against someone’s shoulder, you do feel bone. But you also feel muscle and sometimes, fat. 

Nothing. 

_ How the hell is there absolutely nothing? _

“Go sit on the couch,” Ryan stated. It came out more pissy than Ryan had intended, but he didn’t follow up with an apology. 

No, he walked to the pantry and grabbed a styrofoam cup. Instant Ramen, aka what Ryan grew up on. Without a word, he put water into the container and then microwaved it. He didn’t give a shit if it burned. 

Maybe it was better that way. 

Alas, no fire was started that day. Within 6 minutes, Ryan was handing the hot cup to Brendon. 

“Before you take a bite, let me grab a tray…” He trailed off, grabbing a wooden tray that was about the height of the couch when sitting. He watched for a moment as Brendon placed the cup down, methodically fiddling with the fork.  _ Had he never seen a fork before?  _

“Thank you, but I’m not-”

“Eat.” Ryan demanded, causing Brendon to jump slightly. But he didn’t fight or hesitate to start eating. He burnt his tongue as he had taken the first bite, but he didn’t stop to let the food set. He didn’t stop when the sodium disagreed with his stomach. And he didn’t stop until it was gone. 

“Not hungry my ass,” Ryan laughed and let his eyes travel up and down his body. Questions still ran rampant in his head. And he intended to find things out that day. 

Brendon wiped off his chin and mumbled a soft apology before sitting upright, waiting for permission to get up. 

“So, uh, your parents?” Ryan questioned, eyeing Brendon as he heard his stomach growl.

“They got arrested, I think. I don’t know what that means…” Brendon’s eyes grazed to his hands as his stomach angrily rampaged. It was punishing him for being so compliant with commands. 

“How the fuck do you not know what that means?”

“I-well…”

“Your parents broke the law. Do you know what that is or are you that far under a rock that you don’t know what basic facts are?” 

“I never was allowed to leave my house until last night. And uh, apparently that’s bad?” Ryan was confusing him. One second he was being nice and the next he was acting like a total asshole.

Ryan’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shape as he started to put two and two together. 

The deformed bodies of the two bodies meshed back together and time didn’t still. Instead, a barrier was opened. And Ryan knew better than to walk right in. But it would be too easy. 

Way too easy. 

And Brendon wouldn’t know a thing.

“So, do you really not know what ‘getting laid’ means? Better yet, do you even know what sex is?” Ryan smirked. 

  
  
  
  



	5. Warm

The next morning, Ryan laid next to an unconscious body. 

Well, as near as you can get without being in the same bed. 

Brendon laid there, in Ryan’s clothes. Ryan didn’t mind much, for Brendon had nothing with him. Yet, he still didn’t really believe Brendon when he told his brainwashed perspective. 

Ryan woke up before Brendon, observing the male. He longed for the affection he was setting up for the day prior; still angry Brendon fucked that up. Upon hearing what he said the night prior, it sounded like that wasn’t the only thing Brendon fucked up.

The time didn’t register with Ryan until the front door was heard swinging open. He cringed slightly as he waited for some form of anger. 

Fear pitted itself in Ryan’s stomach, boiling as steps could be heard from outside the sanction of his door. Ryan was the seal, Brendon the zoo keeper, and George, the needy, spoiled rotten child who this was all catered for. 

Yet, instead of a loud swing of his bedroom door, George opened the door quietly. 

“Get the kid up. He needs to come back in for more questions.” Was all George said before Ryan nodded. He sat up and gently tapped Brendon’s shoulder. When that wasn’t enough, he shook the boy’s arm; Brendon jolted up with enough force to startle Ryan.

Then came a whine. 

_ A fucking whine? What was this guy, three? _

“You’re being taken back to the station for questions.”

“What, why?”

“I don’t fucking know, get your ass up.”

And Brendon obeyed. Command and control. Ryan hated it. He hated how Brendon stood there with a confused pout. He hated how Brendon looked so scared. He hated how Brendon felt everything he felt when he was with his father…

“Uh,” Ryan started, getting up himself and grabbing a pair of jeans his girlfriend had left. She was about the same size as Brendon, “Here.”

Brendon pulled off his pants right there, causing Ryan to hiss in disgust. 

“Dude! Warn a man before you strip! Jeez, I’m not a fag!” Ryan exclaimed as he turned away.

“Oh, sorry. Father used to… nevermind…” he mumbled before pulling on the bell-bottom jeans. They didn’t fit perfectly, but they hugged Brendon’s ass just enough to accentuate it. 

Not that Ryan was looking or anything. 

Brendon shivered slightly as he felt the air turn on. That prompted Ryan to grab one of his zip up jackets. It was black with a faux fur trim on the hood. It smelled of cigarettes and a lingering cologne. 

Walking up from behind him, Ryan placed Brendon’s left hand in the left sleeve, pulling it up slightly. He did the same for the right arm. He then placed his hand on the small of Brendon’s back to get in front of him. 

Ryan would be lying if he said he didn’t already care for Brendon. Like he was his little brother or something.

He then zipped up the coat and placed a soft kiss to Brendon’s forehead. 

“What was that for?” Brendon questioned, an unfamiliar and unsettling warmth took over him. 

“Good luck.” Ryan stated simply, as if it was nothing. 

Brendon gave Ryan an innocent smile, letting his top two teeth just barely show. He felt a little bit better about the morning, especially as warmth ran through his body. 

“Can I do it back?” Brendon asked. 

“Not a chance.”

\------------

“Did he ever touch you?” Mikey asked Brendon softly. After two hours of questioning, they had gotten practically nowhere. It was always the same response. 

“Father did everything he did to raise me right,” Brendon uttered for probably the 700th time that morning. 

“Kid, come on. You can’t honestly believe that. You can’t honestly believe that he did everything he did for that reason. DId he touch you outside of hugs and friendly gestures?” Mikey asked, this time with more aggression. 

“...yes,” Brendon admitted, not knowing how Mikey would react. 

“Can you point to where?” His professional composure returned as he recorded a few notes.

“Why? Why do you need to know? I just want to go home!” Brendon snapped at Mikey before realizing what he had done. Brendon went from a slightly more confident posture back to shrinking within his seat, as if becoming smaller would make him a less susceptible target.

“I’m--I’m so sorry, Mikey, I-” 

“Don’t apologize,” Mikey interrupted, lifting his hand slightly to further hush him. 

“Now, why are you so scared, Brendon? It’s just you and me in here. I won’t ever touch you and will never let anyone hurt you in here,” Mikey started, knowing damn well that this would take so long to unveil. But it was his job after all. 

“Just because they’d punish me, didn’t mean I liked it…” was all Brendon said before he sighed, covering himself further with Ryam’s jacket. 

A slight silence filled the room as Mikey filled a few papers out. 

“What’s a fag?” Brendon asked, causing Mikey to eye him up and down. 

“A british term for a cigarette, why?” 

“Ryan, the boy I’m staying with, said he wasn’t one this morning…” 

Mikey’s head cocked slightly before he nodded, listening to Brendon. This was the most he had openly talked to Mikey. And the first time he had started a conversation.  _ Maybe this Ryan-figure could help… _

“Then he definitely wasn’t talking about a cigarette,” Mikey let out a forced laugh before shaking his head, “It’s a term used to mock gay men. And some women. Do you know what gay means?” 

Brendon shook his head.

“When a man loves another man and a woman loves another woman in the same way a man and woman love each other.”

Realization crept onto Brendon’s face, making him bite his lip.

“Father said it was wrong and that he’d kill me if I ever thought of a boy like that,” he mumbled softly as Mikey rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“You couldn’t get married or flaunt your relationship, but there is nothing wrong with loving someone. Brendon, you’re allowed to be whoever you want to be and whoever you are in this room. Anyways, tell me else about your first day in your new home.” 

“I share a room with Ryan. He’s taller than me and has a girlfriend. He made me try this uh… noodle thing? In a weird cup. It made my arm hair stand up. He has this pullout bed. I slept on it, but he let me lay down on his bed while we talked.” 

Mikey smiled, happy Brendon did seem to be truthful. 

“You had Ramen, that’s great! What did you and Ryan talk about?”

“He explained what sex was. And it started out kinda weird. He made me eat, and we just sat there and talked. He asked a lot of questions and almost commanded me to respond. But he didn’t seem to care so much as what had happened, but what will happen. He had to wake me up this morning and gave me clothes. Then he gave me a ‘good luck kiss’ right here,” Brendon pointed to his forehead. 

“And how did you feel about that?”

“Warm.”

\------------------

“Who the hell gives a shit about what your father said? Eat when your hungry god damnit! Do you even know what hunger is?” Ryan said a bit too angrily. 

Brendon bit his bottom lip, letting his sad eyes look up at Ryan. 

_ Oh, if Ryan didn’t have a thing for big brown eyes… _

“Hey, no,” Ryan sat another cup before Brendon with a sigh, “You need to eat. You’re frail and look absolutely fucking awful. Who cares what your father said. Do you see him here?” 

Brendon shook his head as Ryan put on the TV. The channel was already on MTV, as always.

“No, he isn’t here. So don’t live as if he’s here. Seriously, it isn’t good for you. And besides, I won’t be here to make sure you don’t die tomorrow. I showed you how to use the microwave and the TV.”

“Where are you going tomorrow?” Brendon asked innocently, taking his fork and twirling the scorching noodles to not look at Ryan. 

“Out with my friend, Spencer. Eat.” 

Brendon nodded and looked up at the TV, fork in hand. Twirling the noodles for a few more seconds before lifting it. He blew on his fork, then took a bite as he watched the screen. Some broth dripped down his chin. 

“I’m gonna be on there one day,” Ryan stated.

“What?”

“I’m gonna be in a great band and I’m gonna get on there. People are going to listen to me and fall in love with my lyrics.”

“You’re confident,” Brendon smiled.

“Yeah, and you aren’t. Now eat before I force it down,” Ryan returned the simple smile.

Warm. That’s all Brendon felt. 


	6. Anger, the Shapeshifter

> August 31st, 2004. 
> 
> This date made no impact on anyone in the Ross household except for one boy. Ryan.
> 
> He woke up around 6 am that morning, deciding to leave Brendon to rest. He walked downstairs to only be met with his father, stumbling across the living room and down the hall.
> 
> “Hey, dad?” Ryan called out, a slight falter in his tone. 
> 
> “Yes?” George replied, slight annoyance lacing his slurred words. 
> 
> “I’m hanging out with Spencer today, Brendon is--”
> 
> “Going with you. Have fun.” George interrupted.
> 
> “Dad, what, no!” Ryan exclaimed, not wanting to have to babysit his last few days of summer break. 
> 
> “If you want to see Spencer at all, you will bring him. Be grateful I’m even letting you go. I could be like Brendon’s parents and never let you out at all!” WIth that, Ryan gave up. A newfound anger started to bubble within his chest. 
> 
> Ryan ran up back up the stairs, ready to fight with Brendon. This was supposed to be the one day that he didn’t have to babysit.
> 
> Ryan opened the door very angrily and slammed it shut, startling the raven haired boy. 
> 
> “Get the fuck up,” Ryan growled out. He watched as Brendon got up, looking Ryan in the eyes. He looked terrified. 
> 
> “What did I do-”
> 
> “Why do you have to fucking exist? It’s my 18th birthday and I have to waste it babysitting you. You’re such a fucking nuisance; couldn’t you have just stayed put or in someone else’s life?” Ryan spat, so angry that he wasn’t thinking straight at all. 
> 
> “I’m sorry,” Brendon mumbled soberly. 
> 
> Ryan’s expression changed when he realized what he had said. 
> 
> “I-no-Bren,” Ryan sighed and opened his arms. He knew Brendon would come right in. 
> 
> And he was right. Brendon slowly accepted the hug, placing his head on Ryan’s shoulder for just a few moments.
> 
> Ryan’s fingers combed through the younger male’s hair anxiously. He watched as a few strands of Brendon’s hair were left on his fingers, which caused him to stop. He then pressed a soft kiss to Brendon’s forehead. 
> 
> “I need to work on that, huh?” Ryan questioned as he rubbed Brendon’s shoulders. 
> 
> Brendon pulled back and nodded, “Mhm. I can stay in here if you want to be left alone all day,” he mumbled sadly. 
> 
> Ryan would be lying if he said he didn’t consider it for a few moments. 
> 
> “No, you’re coming with. Let’s go get some coffee before we pick up Spencer, Haley, and Sarah, okay? Just you and me?” Ryan mumbled as he tried to continue rubbing Brendon’s back. 
> 
> “Who’s Haley and Sarah?” Brendon questioned.
> 
> “Haley is Spencer’s girlfriend and Sarah is mine. Who knows, maybe they’ll bring a friend for you,” Ryan teased before grabbing a black backpack, shoving in two pairs of clothes for both boys. 
> 
> “We’ll get changed when we get there.”
> 
> “Where are we going?”
> 
> “The beach.”
> 
> \-----------------------
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> Brendon sat in the very back of Ryan’s maroon minivan as they drove to pick-up people. The first of which, being Spencer. The van was messy; filled with papers and other random items. But Brendon loved it all the same.
> 
> As soon as the van arrived, Spencer walked off his porch as soon as he saw the vehicle, which made Brendon assume this had been a planned thing. 
> 
> “Hey man!” Spencer exclaimed before handing a bag to Ryan, “Happy Birthday!” 
> 
> Ryan leaned over for a quick hug before smiling. Brendon hadn’t seen that smile before. It was less forced than with his father and a little less warm than with Brendon himself. It looked so genuine and happy. Brendon loved it. 
> 
> “Thanks. And before you freak out, that’s Brendon,” Ryan pointed to the back and ushered for Brendon to come forward. 
> 
> Brendon complied and unbuckled his seatbelt, scooting through the tiny gap in between the seats in the middle and the back. 
> 
> Spencer held out a hand, watching as Brendon skittishly took his hand, shaking ever so softly. 
> 
> “Do you have something to hide?” Spencer questioned before Ryan nudged him.
> 
> “He’s learning. Now shut up and let’s get going. I want to get to the beach.”
> 
> \--------------
> 
> Nothing out of the ordinary happened on the first two hours of the car ride. The two girls who were said to be there, were and that was all. He quickly introduced himself to Haley and Sarah. 
> 
> And that was the end of the conversation in the car, for everyone was extremely tired. Spencer and Haley held hands from where they were; Spencer in the passenger's seat and Haley right behind him. They were grossly in love in Ryan’s opinion. He and Sarah never acted in the way Haley and Spencer did.
> 
> It wasn’t until Ryan stopped for gas, did people begin to wake. They took it as an opportunity to use the bathroom and get food. Brendon insisted he stayed put until Ryan gave him _that_ look. 
> 
> He got out of the car and followed Ryan. The inside of the gas station was mesmerizing to the 17 year old. As he looked around, he drew attention to himself by everyone in his group. He’d always be the black sheep. 
> 
> “He’s just… special,” Ryan dismissed the worried glances and tried redirecting Brendon to the bathroom.
> 
> “What are all the colors out there for? Y’know the stuff that’s swirling?” He asked, almost in a daze. 
> 
> “Slushies. Now go to the bathroom and I’ll get you one.”
> 
> \-----------
> 
> Upon getting back into the car, Sarah had insisted that she sat next to Brendon. 
> 
> Brendon kept trying to rip apart the plastic wrapping of his straw apart. When Sarah noticed, she simply held out her hand. Brendon gave her his straw, assuming she was going to take his drink away. His parents did things like that way too often for Brendon to believe otherwise. 
> 
> Yet, she gave him back an opened straw. Which he stared at. 
> 
> “You gonna use your straw or just stare at it?” She questioned before Brendon put it in. 
> 
> He placed the thin piece of plastic between his lips, sucking softly. A rush of cold and sweet met with his tongue, causing him to shudder in disgust. 
> 
> “Why is everything so sweet?” Brendon questioned, earning a soft giggle from Sarah.
> 
> “Have you never had a slushie before?” She questioned and Brendon shook his head.
> 
> “Why not? You were a kid once, right?”
> 
> Brendon just shrugged, “It’s a long story,” he mumbled, noting that Haley had her eyes closed. 
> 
> Sarah placed her hand on his thigh, seeing if he would react at all. She then told Brendon to lay back and relax, seeing as they had two and a half more hours to go for their destination. 
> 
> Sarah kept her hand on his thigh for most of the next two hours, letting it trail up and down occasionally.
> 
> Ryan would see them in the rearview mirror from time to time, and boy, was he pissed. 
> 
> Upon arriving at the beach, Ryan got out and angrily set up their umbrella with the help of Spencer. He quickly dragged Brendon to the water.
> 
> “You know that’s my girlfriend you’re letting feel you up, right?”
> 
> Brendon looked out into the water. The waves were gentle and the water was a soft blue. He could get used to the wet sand burying his feet. 
> 
> “I didn’t tell her to, she just did…” Brendon mumbled somberly. 
> 
> “It pains me how innocent you are. Just… go to the van and I’ll give you the clothes I brought.” Brendon did as Ryan had asked, walking back up to the van and getting inside. 
> 
> Ryan soon followed, giving Sarah a look before going to the trunk. He grabbed the black backpack and jokingly threw it at Brendon. 
> 
> “I suggest that if you would rather not see dicks, you turn and look the other way,” Ryan warned before getting in the van. 
> 
> He grabbed the bag from Brendon and opened it, pulling out two pairs of swim trunks. 
> 
> “Try the red one, it’s smaller. And it’s velcro, so it’s easy to put on,” Ryan smiled and turned around. He had a black one for himself. 
> 
> Off came the pj pants Ryan wore, then his shirt and boxers. Then on came his swimming trunks.
> 
> "Alright, do you have them on, bud?" Ryan asked, not daring to look back. 
> 
> "Just a minute, you can go out."
> 
> Ryan did just that, walking over to where Sarah, Haley, and Spencer were. 
> 
> “Hey,” He smiled, feeling Sarah curl around him. He felt a twinge of anger until Brendon came out. That was the first time he ever saw Brendon’s torso. He was so pale and his ribs poked through his skin. His skin looked so dry and worrying. Yet nobody really seemed to notice. Spencer and Haley were too busy being madly in love and Sarah was too busy kissing at Ryan’s neck. 
> 
> “Stop, I have to make sure the kid doesn’t die,” he warned Sarah directly in her ear just so others didn’t hear. He was already starting to form a semi.
> 
> “Find someone to babysit or bring him along with us, he’s cute,” Sarah replied. 
> 
> Jealousy sparked a newly lit fire inside of Ryan. Bubbling and boiling.
> 
> “Car, now,” He mumbled lowly in her ear. 
> 
> All of it was for her.
> 
> Because boys do not kiss boys.
> 
> Even if part of Ryan wanted to throw Brendon into the mix.
> 
> But anger is a shapeshifter, and not even the waves could stop Ryan’s newfound hatred. Boys do not kiss other boys even if it kills them. It’s wrong.
> 
>   
>    
> 


	7. Everything

“So, you’ve been there a month. How are you holding up?” Mikey asked as he sat down with Brendon for their third appointment that week. 

Brendon stayed quiet, fidgeting with a small, yellow, piece of plastic. He crinkled it between his thumb and forefinger, letting the noise fill the room. 

“You’ve been doing so well, Brendon. What’s wrong?” Mikey spoke gently, in fear of startling Brendon any further. 

The brown eyed boy just crinkled the candy wrapper while sitting quietly. He hadn’t been vocal all of his session with Mikey, a total of 15 minutes so far. 

It wasn’t his fault that everything felt too counterfeit. The world spun around Brendon’s ears. It was like he left the TV on while the faucet overflowed and three people blew into his ear while two yelled. He felt so out of it and he just didn’t want to talk. 

“Brendon, what’s going on in your head? If we start small, we can unravel what’s wrong.” Mikey tried once again, watching as Brendon’s eyes cast downwards.

Brendon shifted, pulling his knees up to his chest as he took in deep breaths.

“Why can’t I see them?”

“Who?”

“My sisters and brothers.” Brendon stated plainly, redirecting all the anxiety from the previous 15 minutes into the new topic. 

“Because they’re adults, Brendon. They’re allowed to make their own decisions-”

“And you can’t tell me where they are. Patient privacy. I know,” Brendon looked down, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes. 

“Hey, you don’t have to hide. It’s perfectly okay to cry, Brendon. It’s healthier than a lot of things.”

“Shut up. You’re feeding me lies. And I’m done.” Brendon abruptly stood up, grabbing his bag that sat beside him.

“I’m done here. I’m done with you, I’m done with this. You’re only ruining everything! I was happy!” He exclaimed, overwhelmed and angry. Yet he didn’t immediately reach for the door. Instead, he stood timidly, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out another butterscotch candy and sighed.

“Please sit down, Brendon.” 

And Brendon did. 

“Why does it feel so wrong?”

“What does?" 

"Everything.."

\-------------------------

Ryan was told to pick up Brendon from therapy, not knowing what to expect. Most times when he came home, he looked out of it. So he could only imagine what went on in the car on the way home.

Ryan didn't want to know.

Yet there he was, waiting for Brendon in his car. He had his sidekick in his hands, about to text Brendon.

There were two problems with that, however.

Brendon had spotted Ryan's car and Brendon did not have a sidekick.

Brendon opened the passenger's door, looking distraught. He got in and sat the bag at his feet, gazing down.

"Are you always this sad after seeing your shrink?" Ryan asked, lifting a hand and placing it on Brendon’s shoulder. He watched as Brendon curled up, seeming uncomfortable. So he withdrew his hand and sighed. 

“You hungry? You skipped breakfast this morning, so why don’t we-”

“Just shut up and drive,” Brendon snapped. He wasn’t immediately remorseful, something that wouldn’t have happened a month ago. 

Ryan felt a bit hurt by it, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled up to a drive through, something Brendon was not aware existed. 

“Hi, I’ll have two number one’s. One with a Coke and the other with a Diet Coke.” Ryan’s voice was different. It was like an old owl, making its way through the forest during its final few days of life, soft, yet raspy. 

It was beautiful. Just like the pools of honey that looked him up and down after speaking. 

“You’re not skipping breakfast again if you get this bitchy afterwards. Also, I got you a diet coke because it’s less sweet, don’t get mad at me.”

Brendon just pulled his knees into his chest, pouting ever so slightly. He definitely started feeling bad for shouting at Ryan. 

“C’mon, stop with that and talk to me.”

“I’m sorry, Ryan,” Brendon mumbled, not lifting his head up. 

Ryan approached the first of two windows. He reached into his wallet, pulling out his debit card, given to him by his job. As the employee swiped Ryan’s card, Ryan looked over to Brendon before sighing. 

He received his card and went to the second window, still not saying anything. He didn’t exactly know what to say at that moment. So, instead of getting Brendon out of his head, he grabbed their food and drinks.

Brendon sat in the seat, feeling his heart pound within his chest. Even as the slightly familiar streets met his eyes, Brendon couldn’t help but feel completely out of place. His surroundings felt oddly tight and cramped, the air grew hot. 

As his tongue grew drier and drier, a new flavor took over in his mouth. A slight taste of iron filled from the left and right underside of his tongue. It flooded his mouth and replaced the dry, sticky feeling. 

The minutes couldn’t go by fast enough. 

Brendon’s stomach churned as he began to grow restless. He couldn’t sit still, he couldn’t open his mouth… So he bounced his leg, awaiting his arrival to Ryan’s house. It seemed like an eternity until he saw the palm trees that lead up to Ryan’s house.

When the car came to a complete stop, Brendon hopped out, feeling the ache in his stomach turn to pain. As much as he tried to hold it in, he couldn’t stop from puking all over himself and the driveway. His stomach still churned, even after he let the substance out. Seeing as he hadn’t eaten since the nice before, it was mainly acid. And it  _ hurt.  _

A few stray tears slid down Brendon’s cheeks without permission. Brendon wiped them, feeling no more slip down. He assumed it was just because of the physical pain he was in after throwing up.

Ryan got out of the car, scrunching his nose in disgust. Yet, he was right behind him, rubbing his back. 

“Let’s get you into the shower, okay, Bren? I’ll clean this up.” He mumbled into his ear before taking his hand. 

Brendon sighed gently before lacing their fingers together. It wasn’t uncommon for them to do that. It kept Brendon safe in Ryan’s opinion. And it felt nicer than holding Sarah’s hand. Not that Ryan would ever admit that. 

Ryan carefully led Brendon up the stairs and into the bathroom, making him sit on the toilet seat. 

“Don’t get undressed yet. I don’t want to see that,” Ryan chuckled before walking out of the bathroom and across the hall. He went into his room and then to his closet. Plenty of clothes lay within the two white doors, so it became a matter of what Ryan didn’t hold emotional value to and what he thought Brendon would look good in. 

Not that Ryan thought about that… often. 

Ryan rummaged through the piles of jackets and hoodie until he grabbed a soft, lavender, hoodie. The material was yet to be washed, leaving it soft on the underside. He also grabbed a black t-shirt from one of the hangers. 

Ryan then moved to a black dresser to the left of him. A smile appeared on his lips as his fingers delicately grazed over a shallow engraving. 

_ ‘R + S’  _ encased in a sloppy heart. 

Ryan opened the first drawer, unveiling several pairs of jean’s that were now all too small for him. He let his eyes wander to the carving one more time before leaving the room. He grabbed a towel from a closet on the way back to brendon. 

“Knock knock,” he smiled before coming in.

“How are you?” Ryan asked, being faced with a shirtless Brendon. 

“Better.”

“You think you’ll be okay for the party tonight?” Ryan asked as he placed the disheveled clothes and towel onto the sink. 

“Yeah, just a bit anxious. You sure you don’t mind cleaning up the puke?” Brendon asked, reaching over to turn on the shower.

“Of course I don’t. So long as you tell me what’s wrong afterwards.”

“Deal.”

\------------------

Forty minutes went on before Brendon was out of the shower, which left Ryan enough time to wash down the driveway with the hose and eat his meal. 

Brendon wrapped a white towel around his waist, deciding it would be best for him to get a belt; Ryan's jeans looked way too big. He walked out of the steam filled room and into cold air, shuddering slightly. 

“Hey, Ry, can I have a belt?” Water dripped down the male’s body, perfectly accentuating his hips and collar bone. 

Ryan stopped for just a moment, feeling just a bit of rush go from his heart to his groin in a matter of seconds. Looking the boy up and down, he felt a bit of everything in that moment. Lust, want, disgust, anger, repulsion. 

“In-in the drawer right next to you,” Ryan coughed, trying to hide his wandering eyes from Brendon. 

Too much went on in Ryan’s head for him to understand what was happening. 

Wasn’t this wrong?


	8. Nothing

Lights. 

That’s the first thing Brendon saw. They were blinding, flashing scenes before his eyes. Neon greens, sexual reds, cool blues… It was almost too much for Brendon. Right as he was about to turn around and run the other direction, Ryan placed his hand on his back, gently rubbing. 

Then came the scents. 

Smells of alcohol, sweat, and sex hit Ryan’s nose all at once. The place reaked of sex in his opinon. Poor Brendon had no clue. But when did he ever have a clue? He just had to hold onto Brendon’s arm. Had to hold on… had to hold…

“Hi, Sarah!” Ryan exclaimed as his girlfriend came up to him. Her dirty blonde hair being what he spotted first. 

“Hi, love,” she placed her head against his chest as she hugged him. Ryan placed his hand against the back of her hair, petting it softly.

“How’s the party so far?” Ryan asked, losing Brendon without realizing it.

“Oh, you know. It sucks because I have to be weary of my shit. But it’s been fun. Where’s your liability?”

“Brendon is not a-- where the fuck is Bren?” A panic arose within Ryan’s chest. The kid was just in his grasp!

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll go find him, baby. You go get a drink for yourself and I’ll be back as soon as I find him.” Sarah stepped up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to Ryan’s cheek before walking off. 

And the space was filled with nothingness. 

\---------------------

There is a certain comfort that came from the carmel liquid in Ryan’s red solo cup. It was sharp at the first initial taste, leaving a level of discomfort in his mouth and throat. It would linger for a few seconds before warming Ryan’s chest and stomach. 

It reminded him of his mother. Or what he could remember of her persay. He remembered her honey eyes, similar to the hue of his own. He remembered her brown hair, and how she curled it every morning.

He wondered where she ended up.

Dead or alive?

Raising more curly haired, hazel eyed children she actually loved?

He felt nothing. So he drank the intoxicating liquid, letting the world slowly become less infuriating. 

“Are you gonna stand there like a lost puppy, or?”

“Spencer, hey!” Ryan snapped out of whatever trance he was in. He brought Spencer in for a quick hug, patting his back softly. 

“Where’s Sarah and Brendon? They’re both attached to your hip constantly-” Spencer smirked, earning himself a smack on the arm. 

“My girl is looking for the runaway puppy. Are you going to the homecoming game next week?”

“What better do I have to do with my life?” Spencer laughed as an unfamiliar brunette caught his eye. He shrugged it off before looking at Ryan. 

Ryan smirked at Spencer as he watched the brunette catch sneaky glances. 

“Someone thinks Spency is pwetty!!” Ryan said in a sing-song voice as he guided his best friend away from the drink bar. 

“Oh, shut up. Besides, she probably is looking at someone else,” Spencer sighed, taking a sip of his own drink. 

The girl walked up to him, her petite frame going hand in hand with Spencer’s taller, more mature stature. She wore a pair of white washed, bell-bottom jeans, a white and floral spaghetti strapped shirt. It flowed down her frame, only clinging to her breasts and shoulders. 

Spencer still didn’t believe she wanted to talk to him. Most girls didn’t willingly talk to him, which he was fine with. Until she tapped his shoulder. 

As the girl stood before him, Spencer recognized her. She was one of Sarah’s best friends and Ryan had been trying to set the two up for months. 

“H-hi, Haley,” Spencer stuttered out, losing his composure.

“Hi, Spencer. I haven’t seen you since the beach,” she started, trying to ease his worry. 

Whatever went through Spencer’s head, Ryan couldn’t understand it. He didn’t understand the anxieties that came with relationships-- he never did. Then again, Ryan had never been in love. He assumed it was normal, however, for nothingness seemed to be a common occurrence in his life.

“I haven’t seen you with Sarah lately, you good?” Ryan asked while simultaneously looking around. He started to grow weary with Sarah being gone for so long. 

“Oh… well, we sorta had a falling out. She invited me and I thought it was to reconcile. I’m surprised you came...” Haley trailed off, shaking her head.

“Why do you care anyways?”

Ryan cocked his head, obviously confused. 

“You two broke up, didn’t you? She said she was trying to get with that Brendon kid-”

“Sarah and I never broke up. Brendon isn’t even allowed to get a sidekick!” Haley and Spencer realized before Ryan. And when he did… he was livid. 

Ryan walked off from the two and nearly ran through people. Not caring who or what he knocked over. He went forward, then back, upstairs, then down. No sign of the two until he stood against the railing of the stairs. He was about three steps up, and there the two were. Brendon was against the wall, his forearm against her abdomen.

She was all over him.

Emptiness turned into an overwhelming rage. 

Ryan stood before the two and cleared his throat loudly, “I see you found him.” Ryan proceeded to smirk ever so slightly as Sarah jumped back from Brendon. 

Just by the look on Brendon’s face, anyone could tell that Brendon did not want the kiss. That look alone did not soothe Ryan’s anger, however. Of course he had seen Sarah flirt with other guys… but this, this was uncalled for.

“Do you two have anything to say or are you just going to sit there like statues and pretend I did not find you two kissing?”

Brendon stayed quiet. He couldn’t even look up at Ryan without feeling guilty. 

Sarah on the other hand just rolled her eyes. She seemed a little too put together for Ryan’s liking. 

“Oh, come on. It was just kissing. Besides, I think I have an idea we’ll both like,” She smirked, wrapping her arms around Ryan’s neck. 

To her dissatisfaction, Ryan pushed her off of him. The smirk she wore ever so proudly fell to a soft frown. 

“It was his fault! He came onto  _ me _ , Ryan!” Her voice grew louder, trying to match the same energy Ryan was protruding. 

“His fault? He didn’t even know what sex was a month ago! His fault, my ass!” Ryan raised a hand slightly, only to realize what he was doing. Before Sarah could even speak, he grabbed Brendon’s wrist and pulled him out of the corner. 

“You’re a piece of shit. I hope you know that,” Ryan growled angrily. He then dragged Brendon away from Sarah. 

Brendon didn’t say anything, not even when Ryan’s grip tightened further. He was terrified of what would happen next. 

Ryan’s fingers remained wrapped around his wrist, slowly becoming tighter and tighter. It was as if squeezing Brendon’s wrist made him feel any of the betrayal he felt on the inside. So he kept squeezing, feeling Brendon’s heart rate beneath the tips of his fingers. He had to keep tightening his fingers, make there be nothing. He  _ had  _ to, he…

“Ryan, you’re-you’re hurting me!” Brendon had his full left arm extended, waiting for the minute he would let go. Ryan didn’t. Instead he stared at Brendon for a moment or two, then he proceeded to drag Brendon to the front yard. It was only there did he forcefully let go of Brendon. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Brendon remained silent, eyes wide and breathing heavy. The lavender hoodie hung open while both his hair and jeans remained a mess. Ryan just stared at him, waiting for a response of any type. 

“So, you’re just gonna stand there like an idiot. Got it. Do you have any idea about what just happened or are you going to stay quiet about that too?” Again, Ryan was met by silence. He was enraged and disheartened by it.  _ How could he? How in the hell could he just do that and remain quiet?  _

And to Ryan’s dissatisfaction, Brendon remained silent. 

In Brendon’s mind, all he could think about was the past 20 minutes. How he went from having Ryan scared to let go of him into Ryan being too angry to let go. 

“Y-you’re hurting me… please, stop. Ryan. Stop.” Brendon’s voice was timid, yet demanding in the end. It wasn’t enough, however. 

“You think you can just waltz in my life and take everything from me. Well, guess what! It’s time to grow up and realize you are-”

“Get off of me now, or I'll call your dad,” Brendon said unexpectedly low. It was enough to scare Ryan into letting go of his arm. Yet he did not drop the situation. 

“You just made out with my girlfriend!” Ryan exclaimed. 

“And you just almost broke my wrist!” Brendon exclaimed in the same tone as Ryan. His stance was a mix of threatened and threatening. He stood with an incredibly tight body, yet his eyes…

Brendon’s doe eyes. They were so big. And Ryan could have sworn they had never been that dark in color.

“She kissed me, Ryan. And I couldn’t push her off,” Brendon shook his head and sighed before walking past Ryan. 

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Home. Idiot.” Ryan’s face soured as he heard Brendon speak. 

“Excuse me?” Ryan asked, watching as Brendon spun around on his heel. Something had gotten into him. 

“Doesn’t feel nice, huh?” Brendon asked rhetorically, then spun back around, “I’m going back home. Go enjoy your-er-cheating girlfriend.”

“You’ll die all by yourself, Brendon.”

“Better than being anywhere with you.”

  
  



End file.
